


soda can blues

by acosmic



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 22:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11565051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmic/pseuds/acosmic
Summary: Boey and Mae return to Novis without Celica, and it's all fine,really.





	soda can blues

**Author's Note:**

> the relationships are pretty vague and i wasn't sure if this is long enough to warrant a tag but Here We Are: you can read this without the shippy stuff because it's not very prominent anyway
> 
> shoutout to morgan!! you're lucky i didn't make a cracking a cold one with the bo(e)ys joke

The day everyone, Celica excluded, _unfortunately_ , _of course_ , got back to Novis, Boey found himself crouching on the dirty pavement outside the church as Mae did her best to kick the half-broken vending machine for their rightfully deserved sodas. It’s technically Boey’s job to look for spare change some less fortunate fellow had dropped underneath, but with the way Mae slams her arm at the machine, he has doubts on whether he can see through the dust she was making rise up. Instead, he squints at the setting sun and says, “We should’ve just bought this stuff at the convenience store.”

“This! Place! Has! Memories!” With each word, Mae would slam her fist onto the plastic front of the vending machine in emphasis. Boey wouldn’t be surprised if the vending machine came to life and ate her in vengeance.

( _Memories_ to Boey meant the four of them playing rock-paper-scissors to see who bought soda on Sunday School afternoons. _Memories_ to Mae meant the particular way Celica smiled when Mae lost. _The same as always_ , Celica would say and Boey would watch Mae straighten her spine, calm the shaking in her palms, and spill out her coin purse onto the pavement.)

The cans come out: orange and cherry coke. A generic brand like everything else on the island. He has to make a bit of an effort to lean forward and grab at them, and then sort of crawl to the doorstep of the church front. Mae follows him, and it all looks very pathetic.

Mae gulps her orange soda down, the dust clinging to the sweat on her face. Boey is staring, which is pretty stupid, since it’s _Mae_.

Then Boey gets to bear witness as she pours out the rest of her soda can on the grass. It’s a terrible waste, but not something Boey would object to until she grabs his can and pours cherry cola all over the sidewalk.

“Hey, Mae—”

Then she steps on it, for good measure. The aluminum crumples under her dirty white sneakers with much less sound than Boey expects. Glass bottles would be louder. Louder and more painful since Boey would have to get glass shards in his palms when he cleaned it all up, glass and orange soda and Mae’s tears.

Her shoulders are up to her ears, the sleeves of her ugly neon pink windbreaker pulled to her elbows, exposing the plastic wristbands she’d collect from the dollar store. She stands, making Boey look up, always up. Boey left on the church doorstep while Celica goes and Mae following after her.

Mae tells him, “I’m okay.” She doesn’t look at him. Instead, she’s looking at the big tree on the edge of the churchyard where Nomah would take all of them when it was sunny. When Celica had been new to the island, Mae had dared them all to climb to the top, and only Celica had made it, and then Celica told them where to put their hands and feet, and, and, and…

There were enough anecdotes about Celica to last a lifetime.

“I’m here for you, if you want,” Boey says, slowly. He tugs his bangs, looks up, and sees: Mae’s gaudy pigtails with the scrunchies from elementary school, Mae’s fluorescent ensembles, Mae’s back framed in the sunlight, the edge of Mae’s face as she turns around in laughter.

Mae has a big, booming laugh. One that would always surprise Genny, but one that never not made her laugh as well. She probably gets it from Nomah.

Mae’s laughter continues as she shoves Boey off the doorstep and the tears stop.

* * *

**[07:04 PM] Boey:** I don’t understand why you laughed at my very supportive declaration of being there for you.  
**[07:38 PM] Boey:** Because, you know, I’m there for you.  
**[10:24 PM] Boey:** You can call her any time.  
**[10:24 PM] mae:** u kno it’s not the same  
**[10:25 PM] Boey:** It really isn’t, huh.  
**[10:27 PM] Boey:** But aren’t love letters super romantic?  
**[10:29 PM] mae:** WHO’S sending WHO love letters, buster boseph??  
**[10:30 PM] mae:** i’ll keep that in mind tho  
**[10:31 PM] mae:** ;-)  
**[10:32 PM] Boey:** The nose makes it seem vaguely ominous.  
**[10:34 PM] mae:** oh my god,, shut up boey

* * *

Boey gets an envelope sealed with a puffy cat sticker in his mailbox the next afternoon; there’s no stamp on it, as it'd be a bit redundant since the sender lives two streets away from him.

It reads:

_Don’t think you’re special — I sent one to Celica too._


End file.
